by Wolf, Alex
All I wanted was him, and he wasn’t there.
How could I ever possibly forgive him for something like that?
Then he does things like he did at the cemetery. I had no idea he’d been going to see Mom.
Why didn’t he do that for me? Why didn’t he come back for me? Yeah, I would’ve made his life miserable for a while, but I would’ve taken him back.
Not now, though.
Fuck you, Donavan Collins. It’s not happening. I don’t give a shit how good he kisses me on a rooftop in the moonlight.
I need to get out of this city, but I can’t. I have to take care of Grandma and Grandpa. I have to make sure Dad lands on his feet and finds some new creative spark for him to focus on, so he doesn’t go stir crazy at home. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m going to be here for a while. It’s not going to be a short stay.
One thing I definitely know is that I need to stay far away from Donavan. I thought I could do this; be at the firm and I wouldn’t see him. Different departments and all that. Maybe I can talk to Dexter, volunteer for every single assignment that involves being out of the office. Maybe I can even talk him into letting me work from home some. Tell him I need to take care of my grandparents. He’d buy it and it’s not untrue. The private investigator would see it and report back. I know he’s been following me. I caught a glimpse of him on my street the other day, parked at the end of the road.
Everything was perfect last week when Donavan was at court and dealing with clients. I get the feeling he’s not around all that often, probably because he micromanages every single case the firm gets. It’ll be fine. It was just a fluke that he came up there on the rooftop the one night I stayed late.
It’s settled. I’ll just stay away from him and I’ll be fine. Do my job, what I came here to do, for my family.
One thing is certain, though. I still have feelings for him. I can’t make those go away, no matter how hard I try.
I don’t trust myself not to end up in his bed, and it could make this whole ordeal a million times worse in the end.
Paisley
The wind blows through my hair as Dexter and I head to Wells Covington’s mansion. His car is a Chevelle, fully restored, and it’s incredible. The vibration from the floorboard reverberates through my entire body as billboards whip past us on the way out of the city.
It’s been a few days since the rooftop incident with Donavan and my stomach has been in a knot since. It felt so good and so wrong at the same time. I’m a mess, and I really should try to rid myself of the memory because I have bigger issues at hand.
I handled all of Covington’s holdings when I was at my old firm, and Bennett Cooper is intensely aware of the relationship between Covington and Dexter. Right now, The Hunter Group is only handling a few of Covington’s smaller, newer companies, but that could change any day. Cooper might act confident, but I can read him as well as anyone else. Where Covington goes, people follow. It’s just the nature of Wall Street.
We pull up to the massive gate with a gold WC right in the middle.
Dexter shakes his head. “This fucking place.”
I laugh. “Wells will be Wells.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.” Dexter leans out the window and barks at the butler on the other end to open up.
Both the gates swing inward, like we’re heading into Jurassic Park, and the Chevelle rumbles through and snakes around a few turns. The place is huge and opulent, but my mind is still on Donavan and damn it… Why am I still thinking about him?
“What’s on your mind?”
I turn my head to face Dexter with a blank look on my face. “Huh?” Shit, does he know I’m daydreaming about his brother?
“You just look indifferent. Most people have a different reaction when they see this place.”
I exhale a sigh of relief. “Oh.” I shrug. “You ever been to the Hamptons?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Every mansion looks like this out there.”
“Hmm. Makes sense.”
He snakes us around a roundabout and parks right in front of the door, then turns to face me once the car comes to a stop. “So…”
Why’s he being so weird? “What’s up?” I hope a Donavan question isn’t coming.
“I don’t want to make things awkward or step on any toes.”
Shit. It’s about to get personal. “Look, Dexter, I…”
He cuts me off. “I’ve been avoiding the question, but business is business, you know?”
Wait, what? I must look like an idiot with a thousand-yard-stare, then it dawns on me what he really wants. “Oh. Yeah, I have a lot of contacts out there, in the Hamptons.”
His eyes light up, and I can practically see the dollar signs in them. “I mean, you segued us perfectly to this topic, so I figured, now is the best time to take advantage.”
“Look, I’ll be blunt. Cooper isn’t too worried about you. I mean, he is and he isn’t. He knows you’re going after Covington. He knows he already sent you some new businesses he acquired recently and we both concluded Covington was test-driving you and will possibly move all his holdings over to your firm.”
“I don’t buy it.” Dex shakes his head. “The part about him not worrying. That guy latches on to anything that’s his, and he doesn’t give it up easy.”
“Okay, here’s the deal. Cooper sees things at a high level, as I’m sure you do as well. Sure, he stays close to the old money, and the material clients, but Wells isn’t the wealthiest man on Wall Street. What Cooper doesn’t know, and I do, because I’m on the ground, meeting with people, listening to the Street, is the way the winds are shifting. What people are thinking. What they do. And if you want Cooper’s market share, you need Covington.”
Dex nods, like we’re on the same page.
“Everyone watches him like a hawk, because, well, he’s the smartest man at what he does. They watch his holdings; they try to mimic his positions. They listen to him. Even if he doesn’t tell them what to do.”
“Absolutely agree. I went to school with Wells and I knew this is what he’d be one day. Everyone could see it. He has the brain and the drive and the work ethic. And the balls to take on enormous risks and trust his data.”
“Definitely. He’s your ticket to those high-priced clients, because no offense, but those people are loyal to the old ways. They like to deal in Manhattan. They like institutions that are a hundred years old, like Cooper and Associates. Not flashy firms in Chicago that have been around a decade.”
Dex frowns.
“You pay me for the truth, not to blow smoke up your ass. I received an equity share when you hired me, I have skin in the game too.”
“I like you.”
I smile. The Chicago firm is growing on me, except for one of the brothers. I can’t believe Donavan never told them about me, or introduced me to them. Stop thinking about Donavan! “So your ticket to those clients is through Wells. They listen to him. They won’t listen to you. It’s that simple. But he can get you in the room with them and give you an opportunity to pitch.”
“Sounds like we have a game plan.”
I nod.
“Okay, let’s go in.”
We both step out of the Chevelle and the butler opens the door just as we walk up the steps, like he was watching us from a camera on the other side. He leads us through the foyer, around a corner, and down a long corridor.
Dexter’s head cranes around and his hands twitch slightly, like he’s jittery.
I glance down at them and back up at him. “Haven’t you been here before?”
“Not in this wing.” He looks at me and shrugs, like he knows I notice he’s nervous. “You never know what to expect with Wells.”
“You think he has someone tied up right now?”
Dexter’s head whips over to me, then his eyebrows waggle. “He hasn’t shown me his dungeon yet, and I kinda want to see it.”
I laugh. “I think he goes to clubs back in the
city. He might keep it away from home.” It’s well-known in certain circles in Manhattan that Wells has peculiar sexual tastes and is very involved in BDSM. I think he may even own a secret club for that kind of thing. “He tried to take me to some underground place one time, but I was busy.”
Dex nods. “Yeah, I’m not into that shit, but I’ll admit, I’m kind of curious.”
“It’s natural to be curious about things.” We walk a little farther and good God, does this hallway ever end?
“Like you and my brother?”
I damn near trip over a heel and stop abruptly on the tile. I don’t mean to give Dex a dirty look, but it comes out that way. “What?”
He holds both hands up. “I don’t know anything; it’s just written all over both your faces. And judging by the way you just reacted, I was spot on.”
Donavan never did tell them about me. I don’t know why my heart pinches in my chest all these years later, but it does. “He never mentioned me back then. Did he?”
Dex looks like he doesn’t want to upset me but doesn’t want to lie either. He shakes his head. “No.” He quickly holds out a hand as we continue following the butler. “I’ve never known him to date anyone. But, I mean, you know Donnie.”
I nod. Yeah, better than I should.
“He’s always been quiet. Kept to himself, unless he was yelling about something, or giving someone shit.”
“Really? He was pretty social at Columbia. Always in a good mood, would talk to anybody.”
“Hmm. Weird. Doesn’t sound like him.” He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe he just had to get away from home to open up. Having three brothers, you always had to fight for attention in our house.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was intimidating for him, with the rest of you. Trying to live up to that.”
“I mean, yeah, we were hard on him sometimes.” He gets this look of recognition on his face, then his lips mash into a thin line. “Picked on him more than we should’ve, probably. We were kids, though. I’m sure he understands.”
It’s not my place to say anything to Dexter, so I don’t. I wish Donavan would just talk to his brothers. I can see they care about him more than he gives them credit for, and I know he cares about them too, even if he won’t admit it. “I get it. We all do stuff when we’re kids.”
“Yeah.”
The butler stops and ushers us into a massive library. We walk in and my eyes widen, and I crane my head around. It has a domed ceiling like something from Rome, with artwork scrolling across. There are floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with books, most likely all first editions. Wells is at the far end with a massive pile of them around him and he’s rifling through spines.
“Collins!” He runs over and shakes Dexter’s hand then turns to me. “And Ms. Williams, great to see you again, batting for the home team now.”
I shrug. “It’s good to be home.”
“Come on, let’s have a drink.” He flies past both of us.
Dexter looks over at me and his eyebrows rise, then we both follow Wells.
A few minutes later, after walking the entire floor again, he leads us into his own sports bar inside his house. Wells goes behind the counter and pours three scotches neat in some rocks glasses then slides them over to us.
“What the hell were you doing back there?” says Dexter.
“Organizing my books.”
“You don’t have someone to do that for you?”
Wells snickers. “Not the way I can.”
I glance up. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I was organizing them all chronologically, as the events take place in the stories, by memory.”
“Jesus.” Dexter huffs out a breath. “You’re fucking with us.”
Wells shakes his head. “Nope. Just a little fun with my fiction. That’s what I call it.”
“Anyway,” says Dexter. “Paisley is in a partnership role with finance, helping take some work off my plate, so I brought her along to make an introduction.”
“We know each other. But you knew that already, so continue.”
“No, really, that’s it. Just a face to face. And a reason to drink your expensive scotch.”
“Works for me,” says Wells. “So, let’s drink.”
“Where’s the bathroom in this monstrosity of a house?”
“Around the corner to the left.”
Dexter gets up and walks out the door. Wells leans across the bar, eyeing me with that smirk of his. He’s sizing me up, calculating things. I know exactly how he operates, and I hate it when he does this, because he usually figures out what’s going on really quick.
Finally, I break the silence. “Just spit it out, asshole.”
He dies laughing and shakes his head. “No, it’s nothing. You’re a shrewd one, though.”
“What are you talking about now, Covington?”
“Oh, nothing. Just landing yourself a job at The Hunter Group.” He holds both hands up. “To take care of your family, of course.”
“You’ve been talking to Cooper. What’d he say?”
“Just that you moved home to care for your grandparents. Didn’t seem happy about it. Can’t believe you weaseled your way in at The Hunter Group, though. Most people couldn’t pull that off.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not most people. I’m good at what I do.”
“That’s a fact, Ms. Williams.” He holds up a glass.
What does he know that he’s not letting on?
“And yeah, it’s true I’m not on great terms with Bennett right now.”
“Understandable.”
“Though I’m sure I could go back there if I wanted.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that either. Doesn’t matter to me, either way I have access to your brain.”
“Aww, thanks, Covington.”
He grins, but his mind is miles away right now.
An awkward silence stretches between us and I’ve had enough. I want to get this shit moving and I need to score brownie points with Dexter to keep Donavan off my ass. “You moving the rest of your entities to Chicago or not?”
I say it right as he takes a sip and he damn near chokes when he laughs. “Fuck, you cut right to the chase when your boss is in the bathroom, don’t you?”
I shrug. “No need to dance around the topic. You don’t know until you ask.”
His lips curl up into a smile, almost like the damn Grinch. “I like you. I’ve always liked you. Fuck it, why not?”
“Good, it’s settled then.” I know for a fact this isn’t an impromptu decision and he’s run the numbers a million different ways, done thousands of calculations, but I go with it anyway.
About that time, Dexter walks through the door. We both turn to stare at him.
He gets about five feet away and stops in his tracks. “What the fuck? I got something on my face?”
Wells walks over and stands in front of him. “Congratulations. You need to hire some new employees because I’m a demanding son of a bitch.”
Dexter’s entire face morphs into a devilish smile as the recognition sets in.
“Ms. Williams convinced me to bring the rest of my business under your purview while you were wicking your weed in my marble bathroom.”
“You fucking with me?” Dexter’s eyes roll over to mine, then back to Wells.
“I never joke about money. And you’d better make me more of it or I’ll be gone.”
I watch Dexter. He tries to play it cool, but inside I bet he’s like a damn slot machine that just hit the jackpot. Bells and buzzers going off.
Wells walks us back to the front of the house and we both shake his hand at the door.
Dexter says, “I’ll start getting contracts drawn up.”
“Sounds great. Bring tequila next time.”
“You have your own fucking bar.”
“Don’t be a cheap-ass on me, Collins.”
We all laugh, and I follow Dexter back to the Chevelle. Once we’re inside, and Wells has disappeared through
the doors, Dexter turns to me. “Just earned yourself a nice fucking bonus.”
Perfect. Mission accomplished. Things are looking great and Donavan can kiss my ass.
Donavan
As soon as she passes the door, my arm shoots out and I yank Pais into the breakroom. Craning my head around, I make sure nobody is watching, and pull her farther over to the corner.
Her eyes widen immediately, then one of the hardest glares I’ve ever seen follows as her brain processes what just happened. “What are you doing?” She yanks her arm away from me and smooths down her black skirt.
“Been busy the past few days.” I lean in, closing the distance between us. “I’m not leaving things the way they were the other night.”
Paisley sighs and looks away, maybe to see if anyone is watching us, or maybe because old feelings are coming up and it’s tough to see my face. It doesn’t matter. When I want something, I get it. It’s that simple.
“Was a moment of weakness. Won’t happen again.”
“Bullshit.”
Her head turns and our eyes meet. She shakes her head, just slightly. “Donavan, don’t…”
“We’re going to dinner tonight.”
She lets out a light gasp that almost sounds like a laugh. “Not gonna happen. In what world do you think you’ll get off that easy?”
I force her up against the wall with my chest, so that our faces are inches apart and she has nowhere to go, completely caged in. “Keep fighting this, but you’re the one who’ll get off easy.” I grip her ass in my palm and give it a light squeeze. “Repeatedly.”
She shakes her head again, but her eyes tell a different story. She’s aroused and she knows it. Pais goes to say something, and I grip her ass even harder, digging my fingers in a little more. Finally, she mumbles, “I can’t. It’s not a good…”
I dig my fingers in even harder. “Keep telling me no, Pais. Watch what happens.” I knead her ass in my hand, then slide it slowly up the back of her skirt.